


When you smile, I melt inside

by evrybodysdarlin



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: First Dates, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evrybodysdarlin/pseuds/evrybodysdarlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann and Newton go on their first date.</p><p>Things don't go so well.</p><p>Written as a gift for yimmygo for Pacific Rim Fandom Wide Holiday Gift Exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When you smile, I melt inside

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "First Date" by Blink-182. This is just a fun little thing! 
> 
> yimmygo--I'm sorry I was so late with my gift! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Please follow me at evrybodysdarlin on Tumblr if you like my work!

Hermann should have realized the direction this date would go when he saw Newton's attire for the evening.

"Hey, dude! Ready to go?" Newton asked cheerfully. He was wearing a black T-shirt that bore a logo from some band of which Hermann had never even heard, with a somewhat tattered corduroy blazer thrown over it as a nod to a "dress jacket," Hermann supposed. Newton had his usual tight pants on, but these, at least, did not appear to be made of denim. Battered Doc Martens finished off the look.

"I am ready to go, but are you sure that _you_ are ready to go?" Hermann asked, trying to keep his tone from being openly caustic.

"Yeah, I'm sure! You look great, by the way. Great sweater vest."

Even after their Drift closeness, Hermann couldn't quite tell if that was sarcasm or a genuine compliment, so he let out a neutral little "Hmmph" sound and hesitantly accepted Newton's outstretched arm.

Newton held on to Hermann's arm all the way out of the Shatterdome and over to the sidewalk to hail a cab. "I don't require help walking, you know, Newton," Hermann grit out when he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Whoa, whoa, I know. I was trying to be, you know...date-like?"

Hermann softened a little at Newton's startled words and the deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face. "Ah, all right. I see. Next time, how about focus on your attire first?"

"My attire? Pff, I look awesome. Taxi!" Newton successfully procured them a cab and clumsily held the door open for Hermann. Hermann managed to keep his mouth shut and his face stoic at this further unnecessary offer of help.

On the way to the restaurant, they managed to have a fairly friendly and unstilted conversation, thanks to Shatterdome gossip. The chat consisted mostly of Newton explaining the bet that he and Tendo had going on who Raleigh Becket would end up with. Newton had placed some money on Raleigh marrying Mako within the month, but Tendo had stubbornly insisted that Raleigh and Chuck Hansen's rivalry was actually sexual tension. When asked for his estimation of the odds in their wager, Hermann had refused to give a number, due to his lack of empirical data, but had suggested the implementation of a third option, C) both of the above.

The restaurant, when they reached it, was surprisingly classy and lovely. Newton received quite the stink-eye from the maitre d' before he was allowed in the door with his T-shirt, which, to be fair, was growing a little more charming and a little less odious to Hermann's eyes as the night went on. Newton whispered into Hermann's ear that he had found the restaurant on recommendation from Hannibal Chau, and Hermann winced and immediately scanned the room for Hong Kong mafia types.

The dining room seemed safe enough, however, and they were soon seated at a rather cozy table for two. Hermann let himself relax and even found himself smiling a little, but his optimism only lasted until their waiter appeared for the first time.

"My date and I would both like your finest Scotch, please!" Newton demanded before Hermann could say a word. The waiter nodded and walked away, and Hermann gaped.

"Newton, why did you order for me?"

"Because it's a date?" Newton replied with a nervous smile.

"I would have appreciated if you could have first asked me what I wanted!"

"I know you like Scotch, dude, I've seen you drink it all the time."

"I like Scotch when I'm drowning my sorrows and stress after a long day of work. For an evening out, I would rather have a nice glass of Malbec."

"I'm sorry, Hermann. I'll get the waiter to come back." 

Hermann could tell that Newt was actually regretful by the use of his proper name, rather than some abominable nickname. "It's all right," Hermann sighed. "Just let me order my own dinner, please."

"Sure thing! And, of course, this is my treat." Newton reached across the table and covered Hermann's hand with his own, which produced an unwelcome little shiver of pleasure that Hermann would never have admitted to aloud.

"Are you sure? I'm perfectly capable of paying my own way," Hermann said, holding his trapped hand absolutely still so that he wouldn't accidentally dislodge Newton's fingers with any nervous motions.

"I'm sure. Like I said when I asked you out, I want to take you on a real, proper date. We've spent enough time together as friends already."

"Or, you know, colleagues," Hermann corrected. "I don't know if I'd consider us friends."

"You did when I was inside your brain a week ago," Newton said, with a gentle, teasing smile that Hermann had never seen before.

"Oh, well, I suppose," Hermann stuttered, then let his words trail off into silence as Newt lightly stroked the back of his hand.

"Bread!" a loud voice interrupted. Both men jumped and jerked their hands apart, just in time for the waiter to plop a basket of bread down in the center of the table. 

"Oh, ah, thank you," Hermann said, sounding less than grateful, he was sure.

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter beamed, undisturbed by the fact that he'd just shattered the mood.

"Yes, I think so." Hermann scrambled to hastily read through the menu, and ended up selecting a plain steak. Newton ordered a strange seafood soup dish. 

Once the waiter was gone, Hermann considered taking Newton's hand again, but he couldn't quite bring himself to make the first move. He contented himself with nervously pulling apart his piece of bread and buttering it far more thoroughly than necessary.

"So, tell me about your time at _Technische Universität_ ," Newton blurted out. His question had the sound of a planned conversation topic that he'd been saving up, but Hermann was grateful for something neutral to discuss. He was also a little impressed by Newton's impeccable German accent.

Hermann happily told Newton about his best professors, the minor he had chosen, and what his thesis topic was, and Newton nodded along silently as he spoke.

"But what were _you_ like?" Newton asked. "Did you dress punk? Did you go to any parties? Did you have any girlfriends? Boyfriends?" Newton grinned, looking almost salacious.

"I focused on my studies, Newton, as I assume you did, considering your own academic achievements."

"I studied a lot, yeah, but I still made some time for fun. I still remember the time my prof caught me and my girlfriend on the table in the anatomy lab."

Hermann winced. He didn't really want to hear about Newton's sexual exploits with anyone else, especially a woman. Hermann was awkward enough when it came to relationships _without_ comparing himself to someone's past lovers.

"She wasn't serious, though. She cheated on me with a theater major. Bummer, right? But let's not talk about that."

"Yes, let's not," Hermann agreed hastily. 

Thankfully, their food arrived just then. Hermann wondered if Hannibal Chau had threatened someone at the restaurant to get them such excellent and speedy service.

Enjoying their meals precluded conversation for a few minutes. Newton's soup was even stranger than it had sounded on the menu. It contained a whole crab and several clams and mussels still in their shells. Newton seemed to enjoy it, however, happily slurping up the broth and excavating the various sea creatures.

Their waiter walked by, ignoring them, clearly on his way to another table. Then, to Hermann's horror, Newton grabbed the largest discarded clam shell from his soup and made it flap open and closed, like a mouth.

" _Can we get some more bread over here?_ " Newton asked in a loud, squeaky voice that was clearly meant to be his imitation of a clam voice, whatever that would be. His tone carried across the restaurant, leading several other diners to turn around witness Hermann's date performing a puppet show with a dead mollusc.

"Newton!" Hermann reached across the table and swatted the clam shell out of his hand. "What the devil are you doing?"

"Getting us some more bread?" Newton grinned.

Hermann glared.

"I was just playing around, man," Newton added more contritely.

"I never thought that I would have to tell my date to stop playing with his food in a Michelin starred restaurant!" Hermann hissed through his teeth. "You are ridiculous. I don't see why I should stay and--"

"Hermann!" Newton cried, drawing gazes toward their table again. "I'm sorry, man, OK? I'm really sorry." He reached across the table and caught Hermann's hand in his own, which would have been sweeter if Newton's hand weren't still a bit slimy with soup broth. 

"I know that I'm fucking this date up. I'll stop, I promise. Do you want to draw up a behavior contract, like we did for the lab? I'll sign any contract you want, I swear. I'll stop goofing around. Just tell me how to fix this!" Newton sighed, looking down at the table. "I'm trying. I swear, I'm trying."

Despite himself, Hermann felt his heart melt. Newton looked utterly dejected, and very unlikely to play with his seafood anymore. Hermann recognized something in his expression. He'd seen, through their Drift, that Newton tended to go through cycles, crashing wildly from delighted, energetic enthusiasm to quiet self-loathing, and back again. He hated that his own disapproval had put that hopeless look onto Newton's face.

"No contract will be necessary," Hermann sighed. "Just try to rein yourself in, please. No acting like a child. No stories about ex-girlfriends. Let me order for myself and walk by myself." Hermann turned his hand over in Newton's grasp so that he could give Newton's fingers a reassuring squeeze. "And don't stop holding my hand. It's...pleasant."

A slow, hopeful smile bloomed on Newton's face. "You mean it?"

"Yes. Just...try to be a quieter version of yourself for the rest of the evening, and I'm sure our date will go fine."

"So I haven't blown my chance of a good night kiss?" Newton asked, leering suggestively.

Hermann sighed and tried to suppress the smile that was trying to escape. "Don't push it, darling."

"Right, right. Not pushing it. Eating my dinner like a big boy. Got it." 

Newton went back to eating his food with exaggerated care. Once Newton's eyes were focused on his plate, Hermann let his smile emerge a little.

Newton would have to do a lot worse than he'd done to lose his first date kiss. Even though he'd never admit it, Hermann had been looking forward to their first kiss for a long, long time.

Assuming they made it to the end of the date without killing each other, of course.

But their odds seemed to be better than he'd ever expected.

Silently, Hermann let himself hope.


End file.
